The Road Less Travelled By
by Elandil
Summary: Fawkes may have arrived in time to help Harry kill the basalisk but what if he had been too late to save the boy? Even in death fate is not done with the 12 year old and instead, he finds himself in a war with yet another choice hanging over his head. Will he stay and fight to save the life and world that he loves, or will he sail to find the peace he has never known? Elfling!Harry
1. Chapter 1

For a long while, there was nothing but the gentle blackness of the void. With no sense of being or time, Harry Potter, 2nd year Gryffindor and the thrice bane of the dark Lord, just floated on the black cloud of emptiness, his thoughts hazy and his limbs weightless. In the depths of his own mind, he was sealed into the memory of when he had been 3 years old, before the Dursleys had gone too far with their abuse, before the weird things had begun to occur around him in response to his mounting misery, when he was still a child in both heart and mind.

It had been Dudley's birthday and the whole family had gone out to the petting zoo in the next city over, leaving him with Mrs Figg for the day, but Harry didn't mind not really. Not when it meant a day free from the vicious attacks, both physical and mental that his cousin loved to aim at him. The old woman had allowed him out into the garden for the entire morning where he was allowed to run through the flowers and grassy pathways for as long as his little legs could carry him. In this place where he was free, it seemed like anything could happen, and in his mind, fairies danced around him as he slew the mighty dragon he had seen on Dudley's bedroom door. At his side was Scruffy the fierce, the young tabby cat who, in his mind, was the beloved companion to the little warrior, as fearsome as a lion and just as brave. He had laughed more in that one day then he had ever had reason to before or since as he enjoyed his freedom under the maternal eye of the old lady, blissfully unaware of what was to befall him in the too near future.

It was one of his best memories, as it was a time when he was truly happy. No one had shouted at him, or forced him to do any difficult task. It was before the responsibility that came with fame was thrust upon his shoulders and before the whispered mutterings of 'Slytherin's heir' that followed him through the hall ways, before the people who claimed to love him one moment, then abhorred him the next. It was his most magical memory despite its setting, and it was where he remained, reliving the time when he had truly been able to be a child, even for just a few short hours though now, in that day he was joined by two children his own age. One was a tall girl with curly brown hair to her shoulders and the other was a pale faced boy with flaming hair. With those two at his side, he continued to adventure further into the 'wilderness' than he had ever managed before.

On the outside, the broken body of the 12 year old lay propped on a bed of black silk that contrasted sharply with his alabaster skin, gently laid out beside that of a girl, only a year younger, with bright copper hair and a face of ghostly white. At first glance, it would seem as though the two were merely sleeping, but if one played close enough attention, they would see that the slight, emaciated bodies were glowing, and that neither were breathing. Off to the left, a young woman in the midst of a larger group sighed, her silver eyes lingering on the black haired child with the series of scars dotting his small body from head to toe. The babe, for that is all he could have been described as in her eyes, had seen far too much pain in the course of his short life.

"_It is not fair that they should have come so far only to fail in the end._"

Around her, the woman's companions fell silent, also turning to face the younglings on the bed. Of the four of them, there were two who showed only pity for the two crushed figures, while the others showed dread and guilt. They had all seen it of course, the little ones' ends. Had stood there as the girl was possessed time and again, growing more and more scared as time went by, but unable to fight the darkness that had taken over her heart and mind. They had merely stood by as the boy grew hated by his peers for attempting to save another, and how both managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They had observed how the girl had finally lost control of her body and been dragged down into the chamber to die while the darkness had been revived, and how the boy fought valiantly against a demon beings several times his age would fear to face. In the end, the boy had prevailed, but there was to be no reprieve for him. Basalisk venom was extremely potent, and though the phoenix tears had helped strengthen him for a time, they had come too late to save him completely, the poison had already reached his heart, though none of those gathered had been able to prevent this. Though he had been able to stop the darkness from regaining its physical form once again, the wave of dark energy released from the destruction of the horcrux had stopped his weakened heart, as well as the girl's as her body no longer possessed the vital light energy it needed to resist the dark. They had watched, but been unable to intervene with the morbid fate of the little ones, the four omnipotent beings, for once, being left powerless in the face of such a tragedy.

Until now.

"_We must send them back to their own world, the fates are not through with them yet and their strings still stretch on_. _Both are heavily needed by the light in the war that is to come... to lose them would be a heavy blow to their efforts."_

The inflection-less voice of Mandos filled the small hall with a lingering sense of despair, despite its carefully controlled nature, though when the others turned to face him, his face betrayed nothing but a deep, soul wrenching grief, the master of death's pain made all the more potent as none had expected such an extreme response. His words had been cold, as was fitting for the dooms man of the Valar, yet his eyes lingered on the boy with a long buried and forgotten warmth, similar to a dazed father looking upon his new born son for the first time, a look that he had not borne for several long ages. Yet they were also filled with great pain, centuries in the making. Beside him, Lórien stiffened, his golden eyes growing wide and gleaming with a pale, unearthly light as he truly focused on the child for the first time.

"_He is the one destined to master your Hallows… the one who is mean to be the champion of death… Your son… Merlinor... but that cannot be! He was lost, hidden from all of us all those years ago..."_

The words were little more than a breath in the still air of the chamber, but the gathered spirits now turned to the child with wonder on their faces. They had all heard tell of the dooms man's lost child, though few now remembered the babe. The only child of Mandos, a son that had been taken by Melkor at the very beginning of the war and who had never been seen since a few days after his birth. He had been stolen from his crib in the very depth of the night and it had been foretold that he would be born again in a different world, beyond the reach of the Valar. It was Melkor's revenge on the harbinger of death who had banished too many of the fallen spirit's followers. That he would have to see his son age and die in another world, and yet have no way to contact or aid him. The children of the Valar were prized more than elflings on Arda, for they were so rare, and were destined to be adored from the moment of their birth… yet the son of death would know no such love. It had broken the Vala and those around him had despaired, yet, impossible as it may seem, here was the child.

"_It cannot be… He has known such pain already, pain that should never have fallen on him in the first place, and you would have him sent back into the war? He is here now. He is safe in your halls. Can he not remain that way? The girl too does not deserve what fate has afforded her. Let them rest here and await their families in happiness… is that not a kindness?"_

Nienna had stepped forwards to run a shaking hand over the child's frozen forehead as she all but begged the stoic man before her, wincing slightly when she saw the blood that covered the boy's small frame. To harm a child was one of the foulest of crimes, yet the boy before her was riddled with scars, both physical and mental, in a way that no child should ever be, injuries that would take many long years to heal, even in the silver shores of the undying lands surrounded by the unconditional love of the Valar. So beaten and broken was he by his so called family, and then by fate that it was a near miracle that the child was still fighting, let alone capable of trusting those around him.

The lady of mercy felt tears fill her eyes as she saw the trials that were still to come for the boy through her contact with is skin, and she had to fight the urge to take him into her arms, to hold him safe from all who would harm him in any world. Instead, she settled for simply brushing raven locks from lightly parted lips, though the soothing gesture went unnoticed by the sleeping recipient.

Before she could do much more however, an calloused hand, hardened by the many years spent handling a blade, landed on her own and gently pulled it away, forcing her to look up into the despondent face of her old friend. Her years of experience with him allowing her to see past his cold façade and into the very depth of the hurt that filled his soul. Though he should have been rejoicing at the return of his child, the dooms man was grieving as deeply as when the loss was fresh, and it made her heart ache to see her friend in such agony.

"_He cannot remain here, that is Morgoth's curse, his spirit will only fade if he is left in my halls... My child is lost to me forever. He cannot stay... I cannot keep him safe."_

The last few words were choked out as though they physically pained the Vala to admit them. A thin film of tears clouded the spirits vision and he allowed his old friend to pull him into her embrace. Slowly, but surely, over the course of the passing millennia, the dooms man was breaking, and this was just another blow to his already shattered heart. Many on Arda had begun to fear the call of Death when at first he had been revered as a vital part of life's cycle. Now he was only seen as bitter and cruel, a vengeful shade that had no mercy. What they did not understand, nor would they ever be able to, was that Mandos' compassion had been ripped from him along with his little nightingale, his son. As damaged as irreparably as his heart.

For several long moments, the two remained like that, the smaller figure giving comfort to the one who openly wept for the first time in several thousands of years. His mask had been shattered by this new trial, leaving all of his pain open to the world once again, and his companions tried their best to comfort him. Stilling by his brother's side, Lórien fixed his amber eyes on the spirits of the children that lay before them, a thoughtful frown crossing his features.

"_There is more than one way open to the child my friend, though the girl must remain at his side on either path_. _The ordeal they faced together as well as the journey here has bound their souls in a way that cannot be broken, though if this is to be a blessing or a curse I cannot yet see..._"

For once, the golden halls of woven tales fell silent as three sets of eyes, two curious and one slightly hostile, turned to face the seer though the watchman did not see this as he had yet to take his eyes from the children. Mandos did not dare to hope that his long-time friend and brother-of-his-heart had a solution to his problem, but there was nothing worse than the fate set out for his son in the world he had previously called home. Anything could be better than the pain of betrayal and loss that was awaiting the small boy who should have known naught but happiness since his birth. Still acting as though in a trance, Lórien stepped closer to the bed and ran a gentle hand over Merlinor's pale brow, revealing for a split second the silver mark of Valinor that rested there.

"_We can send the children to_ Middle Earth… _your son may have lost his abilities as a Valar as an effect of the curse, but the blood of the first born will still run thick in his veins… we need only to awaken it inside of him and the residue phoenix tears shall do the rest." _

"_You mean to turn the child into an elfling? He would still retain his magic on that plane… danger will still follow him where ever he was to go. The creatures of the shadows would not stop hunting him as long as he was alive and with Sauron's growing power the danger will only increase. What hope does a lone child have against such forces?_"

Nienna's words were softly spoken to preserve the peace in the room, though their tone lacked none of the biting cold that was her reprimand. She would not allow unnecessary pain to befall her honorary nephew and to send such a light and helpless being into Arda at a time when the shadows were steadily growing in influence was cruel. The inhabitants of the mortal plane may not have noticed the darkness stirring in the Greenwood, but the Valar were all too aware of the danger, there was a reason for the decrease in the already low frequency of elfling births after all. However, to her surprise, the watchman only shook his head, a small, rueful smile crossing his features.

"_Not on their own, no. And as I said before, the girl must go with him. As two halves of a whole, they need each other. What I suggest is that we send them to Imladris, into the care of Elrond Half-Elven and his wife Celebrian, there they would be safe, and it is there that they would be needed in the future._"

"_What do you mean 'they would be needed'? What has made you suggest such a course of action now brother? We are not to interfere with the affairs of their world any longer, you know this!_"

The master of death turned to glare at his friend, stepping away from the embrace he had been taking comfort from only a few seconds before, his pain washed away by the centuries of anger that had been contained and was now finding a way to vent itself. He knew that it was unjust to take out his frustrations when Lórien was only attempting to help, however, he had let his hopes be raised, even by a minuscule amount, and now that they had been allowed to fall again, he was beginning to lose control of his temper. Still the seer did not move however, his hand gently caressing the pale face of the child, his nephew, who he had never received the chance to know.

"_I know that you have felt it my friend, the one ring has again been recovered and a war is brewing that cannot be avoided. The very fact that it is Morgoth's pet that shall be causing all of this suffering creates a pathway for the children into the world and their presence shall balance the scales."_

Turning back to face his audience, the golden eyed spirit sent a wan smile at his friends, his hands now clasped firmly behind his back as he prepared for his big reveal. He knew this plan was risky, and relied heavily on Merlinor's strength of character when the time came for his decision, but he believed in the boy that he had seen risk his life countless times for the sake of others, and Arda definitely needed something to tip the balance of power back from the darkness, though, even if the boy did not choose to help, then his ending would still be better for the father who was now staring longingly at the spirit of his son.

"_A time will come when a council is called to dictate the fate of their world, and he would be given the chance to help. If he did, his presence would be invaluable, but if he chooses not to, then he can sail from the grey havens with the rest of Elrond's kin. There he would be safe, and you would be able to see him again Mella nin._ _He need not get involved with the war if he does not wish to."_

Again silence filled the room as Mandos looked over the broken form of his child once again, drinking in the sight as a man trapped in the desert would worship the sight of an oasis. It was clear in his stormy eyes that the spirit of death was conflicted, yet the firm set of his shoulders spoke of his determination as he turned back to the rest of the room.

"_If the choice is truly his in the end, then so be it. As an elfling at least, he will know peace like he never has before. But what of the girl? You say that she must go with him, that their souls are bound, yet she is mortal still. If she were to arrive at the same time as he, she would age and die before he even reached his majority!"_

It was then that the final member of their party, the lady Estë stepped forwards, a gentle smile on her face. She had originally been there to tend to the little ones if they were to need medical aid, yet now she felt that her presence was needed for more than just that one favour. She had known that there was something about the girl-child from the moment she had seen her, and now she knew what her instincts had been pushing her towards and she felt a wave of warmth wash over her as she came to her decision.

"_The I would claim the child as mine own. If I were to adopt her fully, she too would possess the blood of the first born on Arda and be welcomed along side the boy. The elves would celebrate the coming of 2 elflings even more than they would have the one. I have seen the little one's heart when I healed them upon their arrival, and have no qualms with claiming her as my blood. She is strong, yet gentle, and I feel that she has the strength of soul to become a great healer given time and the training she could receive from the peredhel."_

Without waiting for a response and driven forward by her heart, the benevolent spirit stepped forwards and kissed the girl's brow, causing a dark blue light to envelope the child as her body changed slightly, adapting to the energy that was being infused within its cells. When the light finally dimmed, not much had changed but that the girl's skin was now the colour of snow and her fiery curls had lightened to a gleaming red-gold. Satisfied with her work, the lady of healing smiled at all of her friends before turning and gliding out of the room. She would be praying for the safety of the little ones, that much she knew.

In the wake of her swift actions and soon departure, Estë left the room in complete silence, though it did not last long as Mandos allowed a disbelieving laugh to leave his throat, the sound reverberating around the room in a way that had not been heard in many long years.

"_It seems then that the choice has been made for us. Though I pray that my son does not have to face any of the trials I fear will follow him now. Go Lórien, do your work._"

With that said, he too left the antechamber in which their impromptu council had formed, followed closely by the smiling Lady of Mercy, leaving only the watcher to send off the children's spirits with a sad smile upon his face.

"_Live long and choose well little ones, for I fear what will happen to the last free people of Arda if hope does not come to them soon_."

* * *

**+-+Edited 14/06/15 minor edits, mainly for spelling errors and rewording+-+**


	2. Chapter 2

The sweet cloying scent of crushed flowers filled the air as the contingent of elven warriors stormed forwards. For once, no birds sang at their passing and, instead, the darkening woods were filled with a pressing, unnatural silence that made everything seem too still. Even the horses' breathing seemed muted in the nothingness, though their riders drove them hard enough that their silver flanks shone with sweat. At their head, Lord Elrond Half-Elven rode forwards with a single minded determination that would have scared any who were held beneath it for it ensured that blood would be spilt that night and that a red dawn was on the horizon.

Not two days had passed since the messenger had raced into Imladris, bruised and blood soaked, stumbling with his fatigue yet bringing with him the news of a tragedy that had deeply shaken the elven settlement to the core. The Healer Lord did not even stay to see to the ellon's treatment, only relegating it to one of the other's that worked in his halls, before gathering the guards and setting out to the golden woods of Lothlorien in pursuit of the company of orcs that had dared try and take his wife from him, though thankfully, his daughter had remained behind, or even Melkor himself would have feared to stop him from taking his vengeance. Since then, the hunting party had halted only when it could not be avoided without causing damage to the horses and were hot on the trail of the vile beasts. They would catch up to them that night, and it was this that saw a spark of phrenic energy passing through the silent air.

When their sensitive ears finally picked up the sound of laboured breathing and pounding feet from beyond their company, they knew that they were close to their target, but no sooner had they begun to slow their mounts, intending to surround their targets, than a scream had split the air, encouraging them to ride faster and eliminating any lingering traces of mercy that may have clung to their thoughts beforehand. By disregarding the need for stealth, they reached the small clearing in which the fell beasts had decided to set up camp in less than a minute, and, with the silken whistle of an arrow splitting the air, the desperate struggle began.

Freeing the light sword at his side once again after many years of peace and un-marred happiness, Elrond rode towards the centre of what was quickly becoming a massacre as the 50 elves took down the band of 20 orcs as easily as a scythe would be used to cut grass, to where he could see a pale figure bathed in the weak moonlight. Seemingly oblivious to the conflict going on around her, Celebrian remained where she was, kneeling on the blackened grass and staring down at the ground, her golden hair hiding her face from view though it did nothing to veil the trembling of her slender shoulders, the only sign of her tears.

For a moment, Elrond's heart soared as he saw his mate seemingly unharmed and well enough to support herself, but he could not banish the piercing scream that still rang through his head and, as he grew closer, he found the cause of such an agonised cry and he had to lock his knees to prevent himself from falling to the ground from his steed in shock.

Dark, seeping lines of blood tarnished the pale blue of his wife's worn travelling gown in a pattern that could only come from a whip, though her position indicated that she had made no move to defend herself from the assault. It was a notion that both confused and worried the elven Lord and he silently thanked the Valar that his sons had been away from home when the messenger had arrived, meaning that they were not in the hunting party. If they had been present to hear of the news, then there was no way that he would have been able to stop them from accompanying their group, as it was, he could only be thankful that they would not be present for the sight that he was sure would haunt both his waking and unconscious mind for many years to come.

Growing closer now that he had regained some measure of control over his emotions, he dismounted from his steed and took the final step so that he could lay a soothing hand on the elleth's shoulder, the jarring cacophony of battle fading around them just enough that he could hear the soft sobs that seemed to wrack her too slim frame in a manner that made his hands shake with fury just as sure as the large gashes on her back made his vision flare red. To his surprise, and immense relief, she leaned slightly into his touch rather than flinching away, he did not think that his heart could bare it if his love had moved away from him now.

"_Celebrian… we must leave this place, it is too open for us to remain much longer… we must return you to Lothlorien so that you can be healed. Please, you need to stand."_

He continued his whispered yet desperate petitions for many long minutes, until the battle was won and their guard had taken up a position in a ring formation around the Lord and Lady, protecting them from any beasts that may be drawn to the scent of blood without intruding on the private moment, but the woman would not be moved. All she did was kneel there, her head bent as she sobbed silently, seemingly unaware of what was occurring around her, too caught up in her own thoughts. It broke the hearts of the warriors to see their sweet and beloved lady in such a state, but none were as effected as her doting husband who could only look at her with eyes that begged for her to be well and to come back to him.

They remained as such for many long moments until a cry went up from one of the scouts and all eyes shifted to the tree line where the sound had originated. Sharing a look with his long-time friend and general, Elrond gestured for Erestor to go and see what the problem was, unwilling to leave his injured mate for even a second, though his senses remained on high alert, searching for a foe to take his anger out upon in an acceptable manner. However, the younger elf had barely moved a foot out of the protective ring when Glorfindel stepped out of the wooded area that had caused the previous alarm. It was then that the Elf lord moved away, though only slightly, from the crumpled form of his wife, thought this alone was an unconscious act born from shock and intrigue that this new occurrence stirred.

Held tightly to the balrog slayer's chest was a small figure who seemed to be half attempting to hide themselves from the view of the elves around them by hiding their face in the Balrog slayers's neck. From this position, all that Elrond could see was a lock of red- gold hair that fell from underneath the hood, though that, coupled with the size of the person being held was enough to paint a confusing picture in his mind.

"_A… child? How can this be?"_

What was a child doing so far away from any settlement? To be so far away from any form of safety without even the trace of guardians, it must have been a prisoner of the orcs alongside his wife, but how had it managed to get away? And why had the orcs kept it alive in the first place? He could understand them keeping his wife as a form of ransom or to ensure safe passage through the elven realms, but normally they would just eat a child they captured, as disgusting as that may seem, not drag them along with them for many days with the risk of allowing them to be captured by the slower pace. Yet that was the only reason Elrond could think of for a child so far away from human village. Some sort of force was drawing him towards the child and it was only the abrupt and jerky movement of Celebrian's head snapping up that stopped him from taking another step closer to the pair.

"_Malrin… you were told to run."_

The words were soft in the silent night air, but the broken whisper carried like wildfire around the assembled warriors who's eyes, that had drifted away to give a sense of privacy, instantly locked back onto the small frame in Glorfindel's arms. If the lady had spoken to her in the Sindarin language and addressed her with an elven name, that meant that the mystery around the child had grown. As far as they were aware, only the Dunadain taught their children to speak in the tongue of the elves though only a select few of that number named them from the same language, but none of their number had such a strange coloured hair. At least the Lady's words had confirmed that the child had been a captive of the orcs, though there was obviously more to that story than there first appeared to be. Possibly more than any of them were willing to find out on such an already troubled night.

Taking a quick step back towards his still kneeling beside his injured wife, and only then noticing that he had moved so far from her side, Elrond sent her a sharp look, begging her to explain the situation, even though a large part of him was still immensely relieved that she had awoken from her stupor at all. Despite this however, a distant part at the back of his mind told him that he did not want to hear the explanation... It could not end well and would only introduce more pain to the situation.

"_Celebrian… what…_?"

He would have pressed further with his questions, but the elleth silenced him with a quick shake of her head, looking more like herself now than the wraith she had resembled only moments prior, before turning back to the young girl who seemed to be staring at her intently from where she had just been set down. For a moment the two just stared at each other as though checking that both were mostly intact after their ordeal, but then another voice broke the mounting silence in a manner that made everyone but the two freeze in shock and stubborn denial.

"_Where's Merlinor?"_

The soft spoken words had been announced in such a clear, bright voice that it had to have been the child, yet the light undertone that lent a melody even to the spoken words could not have belonged to any but an elf. This realisation struck just as his wife moved her arms away from where they had been cradled protectively against her chest showing clearly the bundle that she had been holding for the first time and the old Elven Lord felt his heart stop.

Curled up in the pale arms was the form of a young boy who looked to be no more than 3 mortal years, roughly the same age as the girl, with skin so white that it was obviously from blood loss, and raven hair that fell over his ashen face, but most shocking of all was the small, pointed ear that could be seen poking out of the matted strands that seemed to be coated in blood. An Elfling… but he must have been mistaken surely? This whole experience must be the painful creations of his own mind that had trapped him inside of a night terror and when he woke he would be settled in bed with Celebrian safe and warm beside him. It had to be... though he could not quite bring himself to believe that scenario to be true...

While the rest of the guards were still standing in shock at the implications of this meeting, the girl from earlier darted forwards so that she was knelt with her back to Elrond as she clung to Celebrian's arm, gazing down at the small figure that was barely moving to breath. With the speed of her movement, the child's hood had fallen down too, revealing a small, perfect face that confirmed their earlier suspicions, thought the streaks of blood and cuts that marred her delicate features made even some of the more seasoned warriors flinch.

_Two_ Elfings.

Two _injured_ Elflings.

_Elflings_.

But that simply wasn't possible.

Around 2000 years ago, the elves had found that the, already low, frequency of Elflings born had begun to decrease in frequency, and, with the last elf born being Arwen who had reached adulthood nearly 300 years previously, they had believed that there would be no more children born to them east of the grey havens. It had hurt the eldar immensely to realise that there would no longer be the sound of childish laughter in any of their cities, and many had lamented the lack of new life… Yet here were two who could be no more than 10 years of age… both of whom looked as though they had been through a war as well as famine, as the ribs of the young boy could be seen through the holes in the black cloak he was tenderly wrapped in.

A deep fury filled his thoughts as he saw the trails of blood on the girl's neck and the way that the scarlet liquid seemed to drip from the left arm of the small boy but he still could not move. How had they come to situation in the first place? Why had this miraculous new lives not been guarded as fiercely as the life of his daughter had been when she was still small, held more jealousy than any dwarf could love a gem? It did not seem possible that the children would be left to the mercy of such demons even if their parents had been slain in a raid, which was a very real possibility. And how had the news of their births not reached him? Even if they had been born in Mirkwood, as the girl's hair colour suggested seeing as only sylvan blood created anything other than the normal blonde or raven shades, his relationship with Thraduil had not deteriorated to the extent where he would keep such important information from him. So why was he only learning of their existence now?

The sight of his mate's flinch as she pulled the girl into a tight embrace finally snapped the elf Lord out of the shock of his sudden realisation and he stepped forwards quickly to catalogue the injuries of the three, though, no sooner had he taken a small step forwards than the girl, Malrin, jerked closer into Celebrian's hold, hiding her young face in the older elleth's hair. From just the way that the child was standing, it was clear to see that, not only were there several wounds covered by her cloak, but also that she was terrified.

Brought up short by the very real idea that this type of attitude may have been the product of torture (why else would an efling flinch away from their own kin? By the vallar... and elfling!), Elrond could do little but crouch down so that he was more on the child's level. Hopefully, he would not seem so intimidating if he was not looming over her. Behind his back, he signalled for the ring of warriors around them to disperse, giving the small group more room. It was clear from the reluctance of their movements that the guards did not want to move away from the new found children, but they all followed the order, moving around the clearing, gathering the bodies to be placed in a pyre somewhere where the children would not be able to see it. If their actions around the corpses held any more malice than normal, he did not comment, focusing only on the impossible truth before him now.

Surprisingly enough, it was only Glorfindel who remained in the field at all, keeping watch over them in case more enemies appeared. They could not afford to chance such a thing right at that moment. Though the other guards were sure to be scattered around the trees. No one would harm the elflings again, that much was a certainty.

"_You're safe now little on. It is not my intention to hurt you."_

He spoke softly in an attempt as to not startle Malrin, who was still cowering from him, but they seemed to have no effect, leading him to shoot a pleading look at Celebrain. Their wounds needed to be addressed as soon as was possible, the small ellon more than the rest of them, but he was not going to risk scaring the child even more than she already was if there was any way around it.

For a moment, the older elleth only stared back at him, a dark shadow in her eyes that had never been there before, and it pained him that such a thing would be there now, but, after seeming to decide something, she turned back to the girl who appeared to be attempting to melt into her side, and slid a soft hand through her bright curls. Leaning forwards, she moved to whisper into a small, delicately pointed ear, but no sooner had she moved than a violent flinch shot through her body. Faster than he could react, the girl span round and grabbed the one she had been taking shelter from only a second before and, with her small arms, helped to steady her shivering form.

"_You did not say that you were hurt!"_

The young voice was soft, but her words held a trace of accusation along with the hysterics that had been there before, and it was this that shocked the Elven Lord once again, even though he was beginning to think that such a thing was impossible after such a night. The tiny elleth sounded indignant as though she expected to have been told such things straight away. It was endearingly sweet… in a morbid sort of way, and invoked a genuine, if bitter sweet smile from Celebrian, one that her mate had not seen since Arwen had lain ill with a fever when she was only 30 or so.

"_And you are tired. There was no reason to burden you now, and Malrin… I believe your brother needs more aid than I. He attempted to block their blows from me…. The stupid boy…."_

"_Yes… He does that."_

The response and the end of his mate's statement was uttered with a mixture of fondness and irritation that would have made Elrond laugh if not for the thought that the child had been injured in any of the ways that his mind so readily supplied him with. The situation was too surreal to be true and, after sharing a look with Glorfindel that was both bemused and blood thirsty in equal parts, he stepped forwards, hoping to bring the conversation back to rational topics that did not including a child who was little more than a babe attempting to act the hero in a situation that he should never have experienced in the first place.

"_Be that as it may… we must leave. I cannot treat any of you here, and it is not safe to linger anyway. Let us be off to Lothlorien before anything else finds us."_

He attempted to convey his urgency in a way that would not spook the child, but it was true that they really did have to leave now. However, he need not have tried to preserve the girl's emotional state as, when she turned to him, her oddly golden eyes seemed to be filled with knowledge that belied her apparent age. How was it possible for a single child to have a gaze so haunted and old?

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**Edited 14/06/15: mainly minor spelling errors and rewording.**


	3. Chapter 3

From the moment that she had woken up in this new world, Malrin felt that she had been thrown into a storming river where she had no hope of fighting the current. She could not think of a possible reason for how she had ended up in the middle of such a dark wood, in fact, she couldn't really remember much of anything. When she pushed herself, using her entire force of will to find an explanation for the current situation, all she had felt was a bone deep cold that seemed to leech the life energy from her limbs and made her feel sick to her stomach, leaving her shivering and feeling incredibly small in the darkness.

At first she had thought that she was all alone in this strange place, so very far from home… though she had no recollection of such a place other than a great amount of stone, and the thought had terrified the young girl, but then she had heard the faint, pained snuffles of something to her left, and, when she gathered the courage to move, she found him.

Merlinor… laying in a pool of his own blood on the carpet of decaying leaves. His skin far too pale to be healthy and his small face screwed up in agony that made her flinch in sympathy.

Something inside her had broken at the image before her and she had flung herself at the tiny figure that was only just smaller than her own, her hands fluttering desperately in the air above him as she tried to figure out what to do. For some reason she could not explain, she knew him on an instinctual level, just as she knew her own name, and she knew that she needed him to be okay,but she had no idea what caused this feeling. It was incredibly disconcerting, but she had no time to focus on that as his breathing seemed to slow beneath her hands, and, before she knew it, the world around her blurred as burning tears started to race down her cheeks, why was this happening? Why was she so powerless to stop it?

"_Lay your hands on his head child."_

The voice was so soft that, if her hearing had not been as strong as it was, she would not have heard it, and she half suspected that it was only the wind in the trees, but she had been so distraught at that time, so scared of being left alone, that she listened without question, her tiny hands (shouldn't they be bigger?) cupping the boy's icy cheeks while her tears continued to fall thick and fast, forming dark circles on the leaf litter below her.

"_Calm yourself… sense the energy in the air around you and let it flow into him."_

Again she instinctively followed the voice, her eyes falling shut in her concentration and her tears slowed. It took a moment for her to find the slight tickle in the flow of the air over her chilled skin, but as soon as she had a semi-solid grasp on the strange feeling, a warmth seemed to surge through her, making the young child gasp in surprise, her eyes snapping open as a brilliant gold light seemed to run from her hands and into the boy's… no, his name wasn't boy, it was Merlinor, she knew that… body, sealing the wounds shut and causing his skin to darken from the sickly pale shade to the far healthier colour of porcelain, his emerald green eyes flashing open to meet her own silver ones.

For a moment, the two had simply lain there, staring at each other in a mixture of both joy and wonder. She was left panting as the surge of energy left her, leaving behind an exhaustion she had never felt before, completely drained now, she found herself falling forwards only to be caught by small arms that wrapped around her securely. However, when he looked down at her, it was with glazed eyes which indicated that he was attempting to do the same as she had when she had first awoken, but he did not seem to have any more luck in that area that she had managed. A few more moments passed in silence before his small (… far too small, just like hers) hand rose to lightly brush the tear tracks on her face, gracing her with a concerned smile.

"_Malrin… what…_?"

Both of them froze at the sound of his high, clear voice, each surprised though a part of their minds told them that they should not be, that it was natural. Malrin… it was her name… she _knew_ that it was her name… but why did it sound so different… as though she had never heard it before? Why had she been expecting a different one? Had she been expecting a different one? And what language was this that she could understand as easily as if she had been speaking it all her life, yet the sounds of the syllables did not fit with what she had been expecting… it should have been different, harsher somehow, but she had no idea why she was expecting this…

Shaking her head to rid herself of such disturbing thoughts, she forced herself back to the situation at hand and sent a reassuring glance down at her friend? Brother? She did not know any more, but she knew that the connection was there, one that ran soul deep. Even if she had no more of an idea of what was happening that he did, she felt that she should try and help to calm him down as he slowly began to hyperventilate, after all, though she could no longer see the wounds, she had not been able to heal everything, it would not do well for him to become stressed now and cause his condition to deteriorate.

"_I-I don't know what happened… nor where we are, but I'm sure that we will be fine. Though I would suggest that we move soon and attempt to find shelter, the healing was rather ...bright, and would act like a beacon for anything that may be out here hunting."_

The phrasing was wrong, awkward somehow, but it also seemed natural so she eventually just shook it off as being from her disorientation, that was probably what all of these strange feelings were anyway. Perhaps she had hit her head earlier? It would certainly explain why her memories were so messed up. Absently she wondered if the voice from before, for she was sure now that there _had_ been a voice, would know a cure for concussion, but, in the end, she just pushed that thought aside and helped the smaller form of Merlinor limp across the leaf covered floor as the two of them moved on from their resting place to find a better shelter.

For around a week the two of them stayed that way, camping out in a cave next to a stream that they had found by following a stag though the under-bush. It was amazing to the young pair just how relaxed the animals were around them, never even flinching away… some of the smaller forest creatures had even taken to following them around, especially a small grey fox that could be little more than a kit. Their little clearing was peaceful and there were enough berries on the bushes in the immediate area that they had not had to leave at all to find food. It was like someone was looking out for their well being somewhere, how else could two children barely into the toddler stage be able to last so long on their own? But, like all good things, it had to end, and, when it did, it ended with a bang.

Malrin had no idea what had happened, the last thing she could remember was laying down to rest in the cave while Merlinor took watch. His wounds had healed incredibly quickly, faster than she had ever been expecting, and, as soon as he was able to walk on his own again, he had insisted that the jobs be split between the two of them rather than having her burdened with all of the work. At first she had protested, since he _should _have still been recovering, but he had been persistent, and, eventually, she had just been too exhausted argue further and she had given in. Though now that decision was coming back to bite her as she felt a burning pain at the back of her head that made tears spring to her closed eyes.

The smell that greeted her when she came to was overwhelming, like rotting meat and other forms of decay, all rolled into one package and then left out and forgotten on the hottest day of the year, causing her to fight hard against the urge to gag, forcing the bitter bile back down her throat. Her instincts were screaming at her to play dead for a little while longer, and they had not led her wrong yet. Even though she could now feel the movement of something beneath her, the same something that was emitting the pungent stink, she kept her muscles lack and her breathing even… as difficult as the latter was with the constant assault on her senses.

For a while, she could discern nothing more than the monotonous pounding of several feet that told her that whoever was carrying her in such an uncaring fashion was not alone… and that led to the realisation that, if she was there then that meant that they must have Merlinor too. That thought alone was enough to make her breathing hitch, though, as it was only small, she had hoped against all hope that the noise would not be noticed. Unfortunately, it seemed that luck had abandoned her in this moment, and the one holding her shouted out to his companions in a guttural language that made her ears burn at its volume.

Before those around her had even stopped moving, she was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor and the impact alone was enough to knock the breath out of her tiny body and leave her gasping for much needed air. Her eyes snapped open but she immediately wished that she had kept them closed as she now knew exactly where the rotten smell was coming from and it was sight that would haunt her for a long time to come.

They were tall, much taller than her slight, 2 foot frame, with skin that looked to be black, but was so mottled and scarred, not to mention caked in filth, that it could conceivable be many others. Their faces were twisted and deformed, with abscesses literally oozing a sickly yellow fluid that just screamed 'septic' to her, and that was not the worst. When they moved closer, she could smell their breath as it washed over, and she had to fight the urge to gag once again. It smelled like the inside of a charnel house that had long been left uncleansed. Combined with the fear that was shooting through her body at the very thought of the situation, was it any wonder that some of the tears that had gathered in her eyes finally decided to spill down her cheeks?

The sight of her tears seemed to spur them on all the more however, and their mutilated faces twisted into a crude, yet terrifying, semblance of a smile and they took another step towards her, yelling at her in the crash language again when she tried to move away, only to fall when she found that her hands and feet were bound. She knew they were taunting her, even if she couldn't understand what the things were saying, but she could not understand _why? _What had she done to them to deserve this? Why were they treating her in this way when she was sure that she had never met creatures like this before? Why as no one stopping this?

She was jerked violently out of her reprieve when one of the brutes in front of her stalked forwards and yanked her up by a fist in her hair. The sharp stabbing pain only added to the agony that was already in her mind, but she refused to cry out, she had no idea where it had come from, but with that act on their part, her fear had completely vanished to be replaced with a sudden surge of determination and stubbornness. If they wanted to see her cry then that would be the last thing that she would ever do.

Gathering all of her new found courage, she forced her head up to glare into its squinting eyes and spat squarely into its squinted eye. For a moment, she felt the glow of smug satisfaction at the dumbfounded look on its ugly face, but she was soon wishing that she had refrained from this small act of defiance. Not 2 seconds later the pain really began, and it didn't let up for the longest while, not until the numbing darkness claimed her once again.

For the next few days things progressed in this manner, though she could not be sure about the exact details of what happened as the haze of agony made the world around her seem unclear and distorted… almost as though she was separate from this reality. Vaguely she realised that they were being carried somewhere and that they were travelling mainly at night, or on cloudy days. During the sunlight hours, she would be thrown down on the solid ground with unnecessary force and left there until it was time to move again. Her only comfort was the fact that Merlinor would always be placed beside her. When the biting cold wind blew across them, they were able to curl up together like they would in the cave, and for a few short hours they could pretend to be back in their safe heaven… until their captors came to collect them once again and the illusion shattered.

It did not take long for them to fall into a routine, both of them too weak to even talk to each other after the first few days due to the lack of food. Their captors occasionally forced a burning drink down their throats, but that did nothing but keep them alive at a very basic level. For what reason she was still unsure, but by the end of their first week as captives, Malrin had pretty much given up any hope she may have had of rescue, or of even living through the ordeal. However, it was then that the routine changed, and things began to improve… for them at least.

They had only just set out on their journey for the night when around half of the beasts split off, leaving only a few behind in the small valley they had just entered. A strange kind of excitement seemed to fill the air, and it was this more than anything else that had the young girl forcing herself out of her perpetual daze to take full stock of her surroundings. For the longest time, nothing happened, but then a scream was heard off in the distance that had both her and her brother sitting up sharply. It was too clear to have been from the things that had taken them captive, that was for sure…. But did that mean that they had attacked someone else?

Their question was answered soon after when those that had left their little group returned, bearing a slim figure of a beautiful woman who still seemed to be struggling against their hold on her. The two young children could not really see much of her other than her long, silver-gold hair that seemed to glisten in the light and the occasional glimpse of her moonlit face. Much like what had happened to Malrin when she had first awoken, and many times, since, this woman was thrown into the middle of a circle of the demons and beaten mercilessly much as they had been, though it seemed to go on for much longer. Unable to move enough to help her, Malrin was forced to watch the other's pain until the beatings slowed and the things moved away, back to their fire.

It was then that the two of them moved, stumbling and unbalanced, over to the prone figure that was now weeping into the grass. At first, their movements were slow and jerky, from both their weakness and the bonds, but after a few minutes, they were able to collapse down next to the new arrival. The beasts had not even noticed. So long as none of their prisoners attempted to escape or if it was not time for the 'games' to start up again, they couldn't care less about the actions of the pair, and it was this they used to their advantage.

With trembling fingers, Malrin ran her hand over the figures back, her mind subconsciously cataloguing the injuries she encountered, though she had no idea how. Instinctively, she reached for the energy that had been cut off from her since she had awoken to captivity the first time, allowing a tiny trickle of it to flow through her and into the woman before her. It was not enough for a true healing as that would have brought too much attention to them, but it was enough to stop the bleeding and numb the pain. After a moment, she moved on to do the same for Merlinor and herself as well. She would have done so before, but every time she had reached for the energy in the past, it had felt like there were tight chains wrapping around her body, preventing her from grasping them. Now it was gone and her head also felt much clearer than it had in days, she could not help but wonder if it had something to do with the drink that had been forced down their throats at regular intervals…. In the excitement over their new prey, their captors had forgotten to dose them again.

"_Hey, lady… are you okay? Do you think you can move? You see, we're bound and you're not, they're underestimating you 'cause you're injured…. Do you think you could untie these things for us… please?"_

If Merlinor's sudden ramblings had surprised her, he was normally the stoic and quiet one, it was nothing compared to the reaction it elicited from their new companion. With a speed that should not have been possible with the extent of her injuries, the woman's head snapped up, almost as though she had been subjected to an electrical shock. Her eyes instantly locked onto their small frames with something that seemed to be utter disbelief that Malrin could not understand… sure they were pretty badly beaten up, but not to the point where they deserved that kind of look. The woman seemed as though she had seen a ghost… perhaps it was just surprise that she was not the only one to be held captive?

When she spoke, even though it was in a whisper, it was almost like a flowing melody that had the two of them instinctively relaxing and leaning towards her ever so slightly, despite the panicked undertone to her words.

"_You're… but, no… it can't be… who are you two? Where are you parents and how did you end up with the orcs? Why were you not protected?... how is this even possible? By the Vallar... please say that I am dreaming this!"_

The last stateent was nothing more than a mumble that they probably weren't meant to hear as her eyes stopped flickering around their pair of them and, instead, settled on the delicately pointed ear that could be seen poking out of the greasy strands of the younger girl's hair. Her intensity was so unexpected that it scared the two of them into a taking a few stumbling steps backwards until Merlinor tripped over something and sent them both crashing to the ground. Immediately they woman was upon them, a look of anguish on her face as she pulled the two of them first to their feet and then into a crushing bear hug that stunned them even more.

"_I'm sorry little ones, I'm sorry… I did not mean to frighten you… forgive me."_

For a moment the two of them froze at the feeling of being pulled so close in a hug by someone bigger than them, it had not happened before in their memories, but after a second, they relaxed into the warmth of the gesture, instinctively burrowing closer to the comfort the older woman was providing, small hands tightly grasping the wool of her winter cloak. Seemingly expecting this, the woman's only response was only to pull them tighter against them… although the action made it a little harder to breath, they welcomed it. For once since they woke up, it was nice to feel protected by someone else, even if it was completely unrealistic given the current situation.

It took a while for all of them to calm down after that, and the woman had seemed as worked up over their captivity as they were… even more so when it came to the idea of their treatment at the hands of these 'orc' creatures, but eventually they became comfortable enough to move away from each other and actually explain the events that lead to each of them ending up in their current state. They found out that her name was Celebrian and that she was the wife of some elven lord (and they had been a little shocked when the woman had called them 'elflings' though when they thought back on it, neither of them had any idea why). Apparently she had been on her way back home from visiting her parents in a different part of Arda when she and her guards had been attacked. Unfortunately, 3 of the 4 warriors that had been travelling with her had been killed by the orcs, but she was sure that the other had travelled back to her husband. Her undying faith that he would come and rescue her was astounding to the two of them who had pretty much given up all hope of rescue by this point… though when they told her this, she looked to be on the verge of tears once again.

In exchange, they told her about how they had woken up in the middle of an uninhabited area and how they had come to be taken captive when they lowered their guard. They explained how neither of them could remember anything before this point, and that they had both been pretty injured when they had awoken (something that seemed to have pained the lady even more) but something inside her stopped Malrin from mentioning her healing abilities… now did not seem like the right time. Even if she had already used them a little, Celebrian had been too out of it to actually notice, so it seemed like she would be able to keep this one secret for now.

After that, things got better, if only a little. Now that she knew to avoid the drink that was continuously being forced down her throat, she was able to numb their pain slightly, so they were more lucid for longer periods of time. Celebrian also attempted to defend them from the attack of the orcs, to the best of her ability, and, although she could not manage much, it was still another break from the pain that they were both thankful for. And, true to the elders unending belief in her husband, before they had even managed to move far on the 4th day since she had joined their group, they were awoken by the distant sound of hoof beats resounding on the very edge of their hearing, that their captors seemed unable to notice.

Before she had been able to process what such a sound surely meant, warm hands had been on her shoulder, forcing her up and towards the trees as she stumbled, still half asleep. As they moved, Celebrian bent down and began whispering quickly into her ear, hurrying away from the monsters who had stopped to sniff the air like wolves. Thankfully, what ever they had sensed must have distracted them enough that none seemed to have noticed the actions of their prisoners.

"_The two of you must go now, run quickly into the forest and don't look back. Believe these to be my kinsmen, and if this is true then we will send someone to search for you, but if not, they will still distract the orcs, and you cannot waste this opportunity."_

By then they had reached the fringe of the trees once again, and with surprisingly nimble fingers considering the fact that half of them were broken and her hands were still bound, she untied the ropes restraining them, and gave the young pair another push into the tree cover. They both took a few stumbling steps, unused to walking much after so long being carried, but when she made no move to follow them, they turned back and each latched onto one of her arms.

"_If we are going, so are you… we can't leave you behind."_

"_Please don't make us!"_

They would have continued their protests if they had had the time, but as it was, a sudden cry went up from the camp behind them when their presence was missed. Smiling sadly at the two before her, Celebrian had gently detached herself from their hold from her torn clothing and pushed them forwards once more before turning back to face the snarling horde that were coming towards them again. By which time it was too late, and, even though it tore at her heart to run from such a situation, she had forged onwards, not noticing until several minutes late that her brother had not gone with her.

When she finally stopped, panting for breath in the dense under-bush, she span around with panic, sure that she couldn't really be alone. She had never truly been alone before and it scared her immensely. In the empty forest, her heart beat out a frantic rhythm that sounded like thunder in her own ears, completely drowning out anything else that she may have been able to notice. It was so dark that even her enhanced vision could not differentiate between the shadows of anything further than a few feet in front of her.

Instead of slowing down now that she had stopped, her breathing accelerated until she was curled up on the damp earth, her eyes streaming and her chest burning. She had no way of finding her way back to the clearing from before, she had paid no attention to which direction she had been running in at the time so long as it would take her away from the torment of the last month. But now she had nowhere to go and no idea of what to do. Finally, the numb haze that had been protecting her since her last day in the cave dissolved and left her quivering on the ground, unwilling and unable to move.

The pain that she had been blocking out with that strange energy the voice had informed her of before came rushing back in a tidal wave that made her gasp out and choke on her sobs. It felt like every part of her body, no matter how small and insignificant, was aflame, the heat spreading out from her fingers slowly, and increasing in intensity the longer it lasted.

She had no idea how long she lay there, biting her lip bloody as she tried to prevent herself from screaming, knowing that if the orcs were out looking for her then her best chance was to remain silent, but the feel of a large hand falling onto her tensed shoulder made her flinch violently and spin away from whoever it was that had snuck up behind her.

Almost as though her had been surprised by her actions, the man froze where he had been stood, crouched over and his hand outstretched as he regarded her warily. However, after a second, his on guard expression seemed to crack and one of shock was left behind, his eyes fixed slightly to the left of her face, on the tip of her ear that poked out of her hair.

For her own part, Malrin was fighting a losing battle inside her own mind. Her instincts were screaming at her to trust this man, even more than they had told her to lower her guard around Celebrain, but her body was still screaming with the pain that had yet to fade. She didn't want to be hurt again, and how did she know that this man would not hurt her in the same way as the beasts before had? Yes he was prettier than those black things, and the faint golden glow around him seemed to set her muscles at ease even without her conscious decision to relax, but that did not mean that he was harmless. The sword attached to the belt at his hip was enough to confirm that.

She wanted to back away and begin running again, but her sore back and legs protested violently and a tiny whimper forced itself out from between her lips before her legs collapsed beneath her once again. She had expected to hit the ground hard like she had the first time, and braced herself for the impact, but instead, she found herself cradled in strong arms that held her close.

She felt like she should have protested, should have fought it in some way, even if it was only a token attempt, but the man was warm, and she had been cold for too long to simply pull away. The faint memory of Celebrian saying that she would send out someone to find her once it was safe resurfaced and she found herself leaning closer into his arms as he began to move, allowing the black haze that had framed her vision to take over everything and she fell into unconsciousness.

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**Edited 14/06/15 for minor spelling errors and rewording**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: okay guys, you have simply no idea just how many times I have rewritten this stupid chapter that was meant to be up about 6 months ago…. I just wish that the stupid characters would behave for me, but then, they are not my creations so they never would respond to me perfectly. Still, after much screaming, I believe we have come to an… understanding of sorts, and I present to you this chapter… enjoy!**

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It was the feeling of cool fingers were gently running over his head, leaving soothing trails in their wake, that drew Merlinor back to consciousness the first time, the soft touch helping him force away the darkness that had settled so completely over his mind. Still, it took more energy than he had expected to pull himself back to awareness, but even when he had managed it he could not help wondering if he was still in a dream.

Although the loving touches had not gone away, he slowly became aware of other feelings, like the soft, cool silk beneath his still aching body and the soft call of the birds outside that slowly filtered into the quiet room. It was a nice place, peaceful, and more soothing than any place he could remember, much better than where he last remembered himself to be, but it was this that led to him questioning whether this was real or not. He had never been to a place this nice before, so why would he be here now?

The feeling of a slight, wet impact had the young elfling turning his head slightly on the soft bedding to face off to the side where the one caressing his face must be sitting, though the movement itself was difficult and left him gasping for breath a little. He could not remember his body ever being this heavy before, yet even these little motions were dragging the haze of sleep further into his mind and making it harder to concentrate on anything. Still, he was clearly able to make out the form of a beautiful lady who was sitting by his bed and stroking his hair softly. Her slightly chilled hand felt good against his heated skin and he found himself letting out a soft sigh of contentment without even meaning to, and it was this sound that caught the woman's attention.

With a soft gasp, the hand in his hair stopped its repetitive motion and the woman's face was suddenly much closer to his own. She was now close enough that he could see that she really was very pretty, with her golden hair and milky skin. It was almost as though she was shining in the darkened room, but her cheeks were coated in a soft sheen of tears.

"_Oh, little one, you're awake. You poor child, we did not think…"_

Her voice was as soothing as her touch had been, and Merlinor found himself relaxing into the covers once again without meaning to, but the slight hitch in the woman's voice made him frown. She was sad about something.

Wanting to comfort the woman, the young elfling fought against his aching muscles to reach out a hand to her, but he was only able to raise his arm a little way before all of his energy fled and it dropped back to his side, only to be caught by cool fingers before it could land completely. Vaguely he thought he heard the woman say something else, but the darkness was already seeping back into his senses and, completely drained, he fell back into unconsciousness.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The second time he was able to break away from Morpheus' tight embrace, it was because of the heat. Tongues of fire seemed to be curling around every part of his body, making his skin feel uncomfortable and tight. Every attempt at movement, even breathing, send a jolt of pain through every one of his limbs and he soon felt the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

He wanted to call out, to catch someone's attention so that they could make the pain stop, but he dared not move his mouth to speak as he feared that the pain would flare up once again, so for a long while he endured the mounting agony in silence, feeling his body begin to shiver as though he was frozen even though he felt as though he had been thrown straight into a raging fire.

Eventually, when he felt that he could take it no more, he attempted to call out for help, or for someone to make it end, but he was only able to release a soft, tortured moan before the pain in his head spiked once again, sending him crashing back down into the darkness, though the pain seemed to follow him there too.

0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The third time that Merlinor awoke, the pain was gone, though not completely. There was still a phantom ache that shot through his veins making his limbs twitch spasmodically, but it was much easier to bear than before. Instead of the blistering heat, there was now a gentle warmth and pressure that seemed to be centred on his left arm.

It took a few moment to build up the energy to move once again, though he found that his limbs seemed much more responsive than they had before, but when he turned his head to find the source of the heat, he found himself faced with a small, dainty figure crowned with red-gold locks who was curled up against his side.

It eased some part of him that he had not even noticed to be tense when he was faced with the presence of his heart-sister so close to him. It was a reassurance to know that she was here with him, and if she was so easily able to sleep beside him, then this place must have been safe for them, otherwise he was sure that she would be awake and causing as much trouble as she could.

It was this reassurance that allowed Merlinor to shift so that he was curled around Malrin's smaller frame and actually smile as he relax back into a healing sleep rather than the oblivion that had taken him so many times before.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It had been a trying few days since Elrond's party had raced back to the sanctuary of Lothlorien and for the few who knew exactly what had been occurring within the sealed halls of healing, it had seemed as though the days had dragged along, stifling all of them as it passed. The habitual calm of the golden woods had, for once, faded under the heavy clouds of fear that had plagued it's inhabitants.

After the initial panic over the many wounds that each of the elflings bore, a mixture of superficial scratches to a deep knife wound in the side of the little ellon and even whip marks that cut deep into their young flesh, every one of their small party had been devastated to learn that there was more at work here than just the simple lacerations. Even though their bleeding had been staunched and the wounds cleaned, the conditions of the little ones continued to deteriorate.

At first it had been a battle with both the malnutrition that the young ones were clearly suffering from, combined with the infections that had taken hold in the oldest of the wounds that the elflings had been inflicted with, and these alone had pushed Elrond's extensive knowledge of healing to its limits. Elflings, after all, were susceptible to any and all illnesses that came their way which made the infections far more dangerous to a child of the eldar to a child of man.

Still after a series of sleepless nights and many different combinations of herbs, the infections had cleared, and they had believed that the battle was over. Indeed, it seemed as though the young elleth was only sleeping in the bed which she had been placed in upon her arrival. However, the same could not be said for their second charge.

Even though the majority of his wounds had been healed, little Merlinor's condition had continued to worsen until he looked to be little more than a corpse upon the silken sheets that surrounded him. The problem, as became obvious when it continued to resist their attempts at healing it, stemmed from the small knife wound in the small of his back.

At first they had discounted the small nick in his flesh as unimportant, there had been several larger wounds that had demanded their immediate attention after all, and this small line of red did not even appear to be infected, so how could it be considered dangerous? Still, even when all of his other wounds had long since closed under the gentle ministrations of the Lord of Imladris, this small hole refused to heal. Instead, it continued to leak a small stream of some clear liquid that they had not been able to identify, though they all knew what it must have been. There was a poison that was slowly killing the foundling, and there was nothing that they could do to stop it.

The realisation that they could not treat the one wound that was causing the most damage had been a heavy blow to all of those who eagerly awaited the awakening of the little ones as none of them dared harbour the illusion that Malrin would survive this ordeal if her brother did not. Considering how close her daughter had sworn the children to be during their captivity, Galadriel knew that, should the worst come to pass, the tiny elleth would not last long with her grief before she allowed herself to fall to the shadows and fade. It was a sobering thought and the fact that there was nothing they could hope to do to stop it made it even worse.

Eventually, and with a heavy heart, on the 4th morning since the party's arrival in Lothlorien, Elrond had been forced to declare that there was nothing more that he could do for either child. And, as long as they younglings remained asleep, those gathered around would be forced to watch them slowly die.

Though the news weighed heavily on all who had heard it, it was clear to the Lady of Light that the one most affected by the death sentence was her own child. While the others would force themselves away for vitalities such as food and rest, Celebrian refused to leave the side of the young ones until she had been forced away by her distraught mate. With his failure at saving the little ones already hanging heavily on his head, Galadriel could tell that the peredhel was suffering greatly, and, if he lost his beloved wife as well... it would break him.

For her own sake of mind, Galadriel had taken to visiting the elflings in the dead of night only to sit beside them and attempt to offer any form of comfort that she could. Normally she would clasp their small hands tight and sing to them the lullabies that had soothed many an efling in their youth, and it was one such night that she had witnessed Merlinor stirring for the first time.

At first it had been little more than a small tremor in the ellon's too thin frame and she had nearly passed it over as an effect of the poison, but something within the elven maid had had her slowly reaching across to run her fingers over his flaming brow, shushing the child gently when he released a low whine of discomfort. Despite these signs however, it had still been a shock when the child before her slowly opened eyes that, while glazed over from both fever and pain, were startlingly bright in their emerald hue.

As much as she had wanted to see this as a good sign, that the elfling was fighting, and that there was still a chance that he would recover, there was a darkness in those innocent eyes that made her heart break. He was fading from them.

With a trembling voice and unsteady hands she continued in her attempts to sooth the child, and she could not stop the apology that fell from her lips when she saw the very depths of the pain that he was in, but before long, those raven lashes had fallen shut and he was once more beyond her reach.

The Lady of Lothlorien found that she could not linger in the rooms long after that. Every time she tried, she was haunted by the vision of vivid green eyes swimming with pain and a grief so heavy that it should never have been found in a child.

For the next few days she had avoided the west hall of her domain, using every excuse she could imagine to remain away from the rest of their small group, even going to far as to avoid her own mate when he tried to discover what was ailing her. Instead, she had taken to scanning her mirror almost compulsively, desperate to find out _why_.

_Why _would the Valar had sent them such precious gifts, only to end it with suffering?

_Why_ would they be presented with hope in such dark times, only for it to be snatched away from them?

_Why _had she seen to rescue them in her visions if they could not truly save the elfings?

None of this situation made any sense and she soon found herself raging silently against the Valar for playing such cruel jokes on the Eldar, and for inflicting such a fate onto the innocent beings in the first place. The Valar were meant to be the founders, the creators who watched over the races of Arda and bestowed mercy on them all. There was no mercy here.

Due to her avoidance of all others, it also took her much longer to hear the murmurs that had begun to spread from the halls about the elflings, though hear them she did... eventually. When she did however, it soon sent her rushing back to the rooms she had so ardently avoided for the last few days.

It had taken very little time to reach the western wing from the clearing that hosted her mirror as she had run the distance without a care for the image that she had been presenting to her subjects. This matter was too important for her to be constrained by decorum, though her face and arms, scratched raw by their unintended scrapes with the branches she had paid no heed to in her rush, greatly bemoaned her thoughtlessness. Still, she soon found herself situated outside the grand door, hand resting against the carved ebony as she fought to repress her hope. Her recently recovered maternal heart would not be able to bear it if she had raised her hopes only for the rumours to have been false. It was with a greatly trembling hand then, that she pushed open the last barrier between herself and the truth only to be greeted with an onslaught of activity in the hall that had once been as silent as the grave it was turning into.

With bated breath and a slightly lighter step, the elleth made her way over to where her mate could be seen, leaning on a wall so that he could observe the proceedings with his sharp eyes whilst remaining out of the way of the healers. From the slight tilt to Celeborn's lips, it was clear that he was pleased about this new development, and it was this which had the last of her tension falling from her being as Galadriel stepped forwards to lay a hand on her husband's arm.

"_What is this new occurrence to have stirred the healers so? What has changed?"_

The sight of Celeborn's gaze when it fell upon her, sparkling with a light that had been absent from the moment that he had heard the fate of their daughter when she had been lost to the orks, was enough to have Galadriel's own lips twitching up into a half smile. This time, when he reached for her, she gladly leaned into the contact, resting her head against his shoulder as he spoke.

"_It appears that there is more to these children than it first appears my love, the hand of the Valar must truly rest upon them. When Elrond came in to check on them, as he does every morn, he found that Malrin had moved from her own bed to lay beside Merlinor, and that the knife wound had completely closed over. It also seems that the ellon's fever has broke, and though his sister's has risen once more, the healers have assured us that it is nothing that they cannot handle."_

Though the speech had been delivered in the normal, unaffected voice that her husband had perfected over the years since their union, the hand that rested on her arm tightened slightly to betray its owner's joy at this turn of events, the equivalent of the ever stoic elf Lord laughing in his relief, and Galadriel found herself agreeing whole heartedly with the sentiment.

Across the hall from their position, she could see that even Celebrian appeared in better health. The news that the elflings would recover had clearly relieved some of the guilt that she had been suffering from for failing to protect the children when she had been the only one available to do so. By her side a harried, but relieved Elrond directed the movements of the lesser healers, making sure that absolutely nothing was left to chance now that control over the situation had been returned to them. Perhaps it was an attempt to compensate for the helplessness that he had felt in the last few days, but the Lady of Light found that she could not begrudge him his sudden desire for perfection as she herself had the sudden desire to order the entire hall scrubbed down with lime water to ensure that no infections could threaten the elflings again.

It may have seemed extreme to any outsiders who might have looked in on the scene, but given the emotional strife that had been dealt to all of them in the last week or so, each member of their small assembly was just ready for this whole ordeal to be over without there being any more complications to torment them further. The needed the rest, and most of all, they needed the little ones to recover so that the elfin kingdoms could be filled with the laughter that had been sorely missed over the last few years.

"_I think we may be in need of a feast once the young ones recover enough to face the outside world once again. Our subjects have become restless over the rumours of elflings being present in the halls and I fear that a revolt may be on the horizon if we do not alley their fears and present the children to them soon. Though many do not believe there to be much truth in the rumours, their curiosity will be enough to bring them here before long."_

The almost joking tone of these statements almost had Galadriel laughing for the first time in a long while and she finally found herself relaxing fully into her mate as she tilted her face up to see the humour in his eyes. It was then that it finally hit her. Despite the fact that the visions in her mirror grew darker with every passing day, and that they had narrowly avoided losing their daughter to the grey havens a scarce few days ago, regardless of the fact that a war was clearly looming on the edge of the not too distant future, this moment was one of happiness. With the assured survival of the elflings, her hope was slowly returning once again and she found herself silently sending up a prayer of thanks to the beings she had been cursing only an hour before, as she smiled up at her husband.

Dark days may have been coming, but for now they had hope, and that was enough.

* * *

**A/N: I'm actually not all that happy with this chapter and will probably come back and edit it later, but I thought that you guys deserved something for sticking with the story for so long without an update. Still, if you have any suggestions or ways you think the chapter could be improved, I'm all ears. Thanks for reading guys, and hopefully the next chapter we will return to the monthly update schedule! So expect the next chapter around 29th of August, if not sooner :)**


	5. Chapter 5

After the miraculous recovery of the little ones, there was an unspoken agreement that the two would be allowed to remain curled up together in the one bed. Not that any of those gathered around them would have had the heart to move them anyway. For the first time since they had been found, the elflings appeared to be completely relaxed, their cherubic faces the pure picture of innocence as they rested against the sea of white blankets. However, the babes now had someone in the room at all times, each of their impromptu guards wishing to be there when the children first opened their eyes.

As it was, the long awaited awakening of the infants occurred whilst they were being checked over once again by Elrond, causing the elf lord to freeze in shock when he was greeted by eyes the colour of newly opened leaves, their luminous depths shining with curiosity, instead of the unconscious form of their owner like he had come to expect.

For a few mere seconds, though they felt much longer to the stunned healer, the two simply regarded each other in silence, the jaded eyes of the youngling seeming to assess his worth even as they just gazed into his own silver ones. However, the moment was soon broken when the child's strength waned and he lowered himself back down to the bedding from where he had been seated.

Acting without any conscious thought, Elrond darted back to the doors of the healing wing and, grabbing a passing elf to act as messenger, sent out word to all who were waiting upon it, that the little ones were awake at last. Normally, he would have done this after checking the young ones over to ensure their continued health, but the Valar knew how much the Lady of Light hated to have information kept from her, and he felt that the mental torture which would result from delaying sending out the message would not be worth it. Still, once the task was taken care of, he hurried back to the bedside of the elflings and began to check them over once again.

To his relief, it seemed that any lingering trace of the fever which had been their main cause of worry was finally beginning to fade away, and they both had returned to much more normal temperatures. The glaring wounds that had stood in stark contrast to moon pale skin had also faded with the help of the healing salves that had been applied religious every day, until they were little more than shimmering lines on the skin of the infants. It was troubling that the pair would be eternally marked by the hardship that they had been forced to endure, though when the alternative could have been much worse, the elf Lord couldn't help but view them as proof of the Valar's blessing. Truthfully, neither of the children should have survived their wounds, when they had been found, their malnourishment and fevers combined should have seen them fading before they had even reached the golden woods, but they had pulled through, and that alone was a miracle.

All through the examination, half-lidded emerald eyes tracked his movements wearily, so he took great care in keeping his actions open, broadcasting his intentions as openly as he could so as not to spook the young ellon before him. It was unsettling to see the child react like a wounded animal in response to his own race, no elfling should ever fear one of their own, but he tried not to let his disquiet show, focusing on keeping a blank face through all of his ministrations. With every flinch and tremor of the child before him however, it grew harder to keep his fury contained once again. If the orcs had not already been seen to, he would have liked to rip their flesh from their bones in revenge for the damage they had cause to these two innocent lives.

Finishing with his examination, he slowly reached across to the bedside table and pulled over a small wooden chalice that had been left there, carefully helping the boy back into a seated position so that he could slowly drink the water inside. At first the child had been leery of the offered drink, but it seemed that his thirst quickly won out over his caution and Elrond was forced to intervene so that the little one did not drink too much too quickly and make himself ill. Once about a third of the cup had been drained, he gently removed it from small fingers and turned to place it back onto the stand where it had been left, only to stop when the child spoke. It was so quiet he barely heard it, and for the space of a heart beat, he wished that it had simply been a stray breeze passing through the healing halls. However, he knew that he hadn't imagined the small, pained whisper, and that knowledge was enough to make his heart break once again.

* * *

For an unknown stretch of time, Merlinor had just been drifting in the blackness allowing it to pull him in which ever direction it chose and not really caring to fight it. He like the dark, it was soothing, and if he allowed his mind to wander, he could just imagine it wrapping around him in the gentle hold of a parent, caressing his face and clutching him tight. The gentle breeze that seemed to swirl around him, to his exhausted ears was almost like a loving voice speaking to him softly and assuring him that everything was well. It was calming in a way that he couldn't remember ever having experienced before and, for a while, he was content to remain that way.

Eventually however, other senses began to slip into his consciousness until the muted thud of a door being carefully closed managed to drag him back to full awareness where everything seemed to snap back into place. Suddenly, the calm feeling fled, only to be replaced by the echoes of pain and terror as he remembered the rotting men who had taken his heart-sister and himself as captives, his mind dragging back the pain of many beatings half remembered and a blazing ache that travelled through his veins. Acting on instinct, he had shot up from his reclined position and his eyes had darted around in search of a threat.

Much to his confusion, he was greeted, not by the darkened woods and foul stench which he had come to expect when with his captors, nor by the smooth stone cage which was their secret haven before everything had gone wrong, but by a long and open hall with golden light streaming in from all sides and a clean, crisp scent enthusing the air. It was not like any place he had ever seen before, and this was enough to confuse him, keeping him staring wide eyed in shock, until the sound of fabric brushing against itself had his head snapping round to come face to face with an unfamiliar man.

Seeing this new figure was enough to reinforce just how _small_ and _powerless _he was in this situation, a feeling that he absolutely abhorred, but that feeling didn't make it any less true. Trying not to flinch away in fear from this new figure, Merlinor did his best to stare the older man down, staring straight into his strangely pale eyes in an attempt to see his true intentions. To the boy's surprise however, he could not detect anything other than deep concern and compassion behind the thin veil of shock that was immediately apparent, no matter how hard he looked.

This realisation coupled with the fact that his instincts were screaming at him to trust this adult, despite his unfamiliarity, was enough for him to give in to his shaking limbs that had lost their strength as the adrenalin high faded, leaving him to lowers his body carefully back to the bedding. However, he still watched the man carefully as he moved towards them and made sure to keep the unconscious form of Malrin so that he could protect her at any point if needed. He may have tentatively offered this man a small slither of his trust, but that did not mean that he trusted him with his heart-sister.

Still, no matter how many chances this new arrival had to harm the pair of them, something that Merlinor was still tense and waiting for, he seemed to only be concerned with their health. But why would he be? This man did not know them, he had no reason to treat them so tenderly, yet his warm hands were gentle as he carefully manipulated their limbs, rubbing a cooling balm into some of the places that still stung slightly. Every movement was completely sure, and filled with the confidence that came from much practice, but the young elfling barely registered this, his sheer confusion overpowering him for a short period. However, that lapse in concentration was soon ended when the child registered the feeling of a cup being pressed to his lips, the cool liquid softly lapping against his face.

Immediately, memories of the burning, drugged drink that had been forced down his throat by the rotting men sprang to the forefront of his mind and he tried to fight against the strong hands that were calmly moving him into a position where he could drink. However, his weakened state prevented him from putting up any real protest, and the cracking burn in the back of his throat soon had him succumbing to his thirst, despite the possible danger.

Contrary to what the young ellon had been expecting, the content of the goblet seemed to be only chilled spring water which worked like magic on the lingering pain in his body, and it was only the intervention of the adult which kept him from draining the entire drink. Mentally, he knew that doing so would only make him feel worse in the long run, and his instincts screamed at him to save some of the water for when Malrin awoke, but that did nothing to help him suppress the small frown (it was _not _a pout) that crossed his face when the goblet was removed by kind, but forceful hands.

Now that the temporary distraction had been removed, the child's thoughts were brought back to the stranger standing beside the bed he was resting on, smiling down at him with amusement, and what looked like a hint of affection, though, again, that made no sense. Why would this man help them so willingly, and be so patient even when Merlinor was making no effort to hide his own distrust? What did the man want? After all, in all of his memories, it was clear that adults only cared for people like him when they wanted something. Yet this stranger had yet to even speak to them.

The whole issue was confusing enough that it was beginning to make the young one's head spin, his thoughts running around in circles which only served to make him feel worse. Deciding that it would be pointless to continue to silently guess at the man's motivation, the child finally worked up the courage to speak, just as the man was turning back to them, though the sudden pain that flared up in his throat in response to the action only allowed him to speak one word before he was forced to stop.

"_Why...?"_

For a second he was distracted by the way his voice sounded, so small and pained that it was practically a whimper, but one look at the adult's face was enough to force these thoughts away. Instinctively, he flinched back when he recognised the negative emotions being directed at him, expecting to be struck for daring to ask a question out of turn, but after a second with no pain forthcoming , the true meaning of that look fully registered and he slowly lowered the arm he only now realised he had raised to protect his face.

This strange man was not angry, instead he looked to be in great pain himself, as though the small question had hurt him in some way, but that was not possible. As far as Merlinor was aware, mere words did not cause people to look like they had just had their legs kicked out from under them, especially not adults who's every movements projected confidence like this one's did. Despite his shock however, the older man did seem to be about to respond, but he was cut off before he could say anything when the door was thrown open to admit an eclectic mix of people, though, for some reason he could not explain, the new additions did not make the young boy feel scared as he would have expected.

For the space of a heart beat, the room was filled with silence but, as soon as this had passed, Merlinor found himself enfolded in the almost suffocating embrace of an oddly familiar woman. He knew that he had seen her before, but his recent memories were still greatly blurred from both the burning drug he had been forced to swallow and the fever that had followed their rescue. Still, as he allowed himself to relax into the hold, the sense of familiarity increased until the answer hit him. Although she looked very different in her regal clothes with her hair tied back neatly and a beaming smile fixed on her pale face, there was no doubt in his mind that this was the same woman who had been a captive of the rotting men with them. Now that he knew who she was, the child had no problems with hugging her back just as tightly, desperately needing the reassurance that she had always offered so freely to them.

Relaxed as he was, Merlinor could probably have stayed in Celebrian's warm embrace for the rest of the day, simply luxuriating in the comfort it provided. However, after a moment, the sound of the others in the group shifting impatiently in the background had the elleth drawing back, despite the small whine that forced itself out of the young boy's throat. Thankfully, she did not withdraw fully, and instead only moved back far enough so that he was looking into her tear bright eyes as she placed a gentle kiss on his brow.

"_It is good to see you awake at last little one. You had us all scared for some time there."_

That said, the woman carefully shifted their positions around so that she was seated on the bed, propped up against the wall with one hand in the blazing hair of the sleeping elleth beside her, and the other tightly wrapped around the waist of the little boy seated on her lap, hugging him to her in a way which clearly spoke of her reluctance to let him go for even a second, lest he disappear into thin air. Not knowing what to say in response to that, Merlinor only leant back into her warmth, allowing himself to relax fully for the first time in a long while.

Due to this new arrangement, the young boy was now able to see the rest of the group who had entered into the room, all of whom were staring straight at him, as though he was the most interesting thing they had ever discovered. After so long in the woods, living in near solitude, such looks were deeply unsettling for the child, something that must have been obvious from his expression as the group did not attempt to come any nearer. Instead, they all just offered him small smiles and encouraging looks.

Finally, it was the pretty glowing lady that broke the silence, drawing all eyes to her. For a moment, Merlinor couldn't help but stare up at her, she really was very pretty, and there was something niggling in the back of his mind telling him that he had seen her before, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out where that was.

"_It is joyous news indeed little one that you have recovered so well, but I fear that we are going to have to break into this celebration, if only for a moment, to discuss some, unpleasant business. Do you believe yourself to be well enough to talk to us for a while?"_

As she spoke, Merlinor found his eyes drawn to her own shimmering pools, and for a time, he couldn't look away, even if he wanted to. There was something about this woman, about all of the adults in the room actually, that spoke to his instincts, telling them that it was safe here, but there was also something deeper and, though it was well hidden, it spoke of danger. This woman was powerful, and it made the young boy cringe away from her the smallest amounts before her words made him freeze.

Was he well enough to talk to them? Most probably, his body no longer ached as it had done before, and the burning in his throat had to been taken care of by the man who had given him water, so he could probably answer their questions... but did he want to? Now that he studied them all closely, the whole group gave out the subtly aura of power which shrouded the lady, and it made him edgy.

What if he could not answer the questions they had for him? Or if they did not like the answers he could give? They were certainly capable of hurting him if he displeased them in any manner, and with Malrin's unconscious form curled up beside him, he really did not want to bring their wrath down upon them.

But then, these people had taken them in and, by the looks of things, had helped them heal from their injuries. Would they have done that if they only wanted to hurt the pair of them more? Added to this, there was the feeling of safety that the adults brought with them, the one which his body wanted to embrace completely, but he wouldn't allow it. Experience dictated that even the kindest looking person could be hiding a demonic soul.

Completely unknown to the child in he arms, Celebrian, and indeed the rest of the company, were clearly able to see the conflicting thoughts running across the young one's down turned face. It was a true test of all of their control that none of them had yet to betray the anger such pain caused them. No child should be this world weary, especially not of their own kin.

With a lightly trembling hand, the lady of Imladris began to run her fingers through his raven locks, so like her own children's, hoping to offer some form of comfort to the scared child. In the space of a few heartbeats, she was rewarded by the little body practically melting back into her embrace. Even as she pulled him closer, she could feel the little one nod slightly in compliance.

With an almost inaudible sigh of relief, the gathered adults allowed their postures to relax a little and Galadriel took another step forwards so that she was knelt before the bed, her natural glow dimming a little as she pondered over the best way to approach this questioning.

"_Little one... how came you to be prisoners of the orcs? Where are your parents?"_

Despite the soothing tone and soft voice used, Merlinor had to fight back another flinch at the question. It was something he had thought on in his more lucid moments during their captivity, and he was still without an answer. All he knew was that they had awoken in the forest with very little memory of how they got there, and it was from there that they had been taken. Or, at least, that was all the pair of them could ever work out together. They didn't know where the woods were, or how they had got there, and for Malrin, there was no memory of anything before, just a knowledge that there _had_ been a before. For Merlinor, it was not that simple.

Ever since they had woken up in the clearing, he had been getting flashes, disjointed images of _something_ though there was nothing there to tell him what had happened. Only the knowledge that he had been soaked to the bone and freezing cold, until it felt like he was burning. It didn't make any sense, and he didn't like dwelling on the memories, so he only shrugged up at the pretty woman, hoping that she would not take offence at his non answer.

"_Don't know_"

The response was so quiet that it could barely be heard, even in the silent room, even so, it managed to bring back the heavy feeling of tension that he only just realised had vanished before. This change would have been enough to trigger the child's primal 'fight or flight' reaction had the gentle hand in his hair not resumed its ministrations. Instead, he only released another low whine of discomfort which was gently shushed.

"_It's okay little one. You're safe here and now, we wont harm you."_

The soft whisper in his ear was enough to have him relaxing once again, only for him to freeze up as he was caught in the same azure pools as before.

"_Are you sure there is nothing that you remember youngling? If you have any insight at all, we could use it to help find your parents, they must be greatly worried by now to have lost their children."_

Again, her tone was light, though there was an slight edge of steel hidden just below the surface, compelling him to answer the question to the best of his ability, but after a moment, Merlinor managed to suppress the feeling and turned so that he was hidden in Celebrian's hold before answering. The words coming out slightly muffled and distorted from the new position, though still completely understandable.

"_Don't know. I remember waking up in the woods with my sister and my arms were hurt. We stayed there before _they_ found us..."_

The words were stopped by a slight sob that shook his whole body and drew looks of pity from all those gathered around him. On the bed beside her brother, Malrin even seemed to sense his unease even in her sleep as she curled closer to where he lay. For a little while there was peace as the adults allowed the child to gather his composure once again, all of them knowing that it would take a long while before he would be able to think on his captivity without being haunted by the tortures he had been subjected to.

"_And before that little one? Do you remember how you came to be in the forest all alone?"_

This time, the silence stretched on for long enough that they all began to lose hope for an answer, but just before the lady of light could open her mouth to begin to ask a different question, a small voice stopped her. Though the boy did not turn away from his comforter.

"_It was dark... and cold and... I could hear s-screaming. There was water b-but it was burning... and Marlin was b-bleeding, she wouldn't wake up... then it just went black"_

It was clear from the shaking in the boy's voice that he had descended into tears from this memory, and Galadriel moved as though to stand, clearly unwilling to cause the child any more pain by continuing the questioning. However, just as she was about to step away, another voice cut through the silence, making the little boy freeze and finally look round. His eyes locking onto the tense form of the balrog slayer.

"_You say the water burned little one... but did the fire move? Did it have a form?"_

Not even the birds sang in the silence that followed, all of those on edge as they waited for the child's response, each of them praying for a negative, but somehow knowing the answer to the question. There was only one thing that Glorfindel could have been confirming in this question, and the idea of having the little ones so near such evil made their blood run cold. It could not be true...

With very slow, concise movements, the child gave a short nod and the noldor elf's face lost all colour.

The night the child described was one permanently etched into his mind as a night of great tragedy where many lives were lost. The child spoke of the fall of Gondolin as though he had been there...

* * *

**A/N: wow... I really have no words to describe how sorry I am about the wait. I really had meant to post it on the dead line, but then the chapter was deleted, and for a while I couldn't log in... but enough of my excuses, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**I won't put a deadline on the next one, cause it will probably curse everything again, but it shouldn't be all that long I swear!**

**And what do you think of the whole Godolin thing... I don't think I got the atmosphere right, but that's just me... please tell me what you think of it!**

**Love you all for sticking with this;**

**Ella!**


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